Protecting Our Own
by Simon920
Summary: Garth is injured while in Atlantis. His friends try to find out what happened.


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Evidently a long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away…wait—wrong story, sorry) there was a canon story in which Aquaman seriously stabbed Garth while they were hanging around the palace down in Poseidonis. There doesn't seem to have been much of a reason other than Arthur having a very bad day and feeling extremely cranky. I never read it and no one other than me seems to remember it from back in the late 60's/early 70's, but I've always been sort of intrigued by the whole setup. This is my take on it.

Anyone have a clue about the canon version? I'd love to know if anyone could tell me something about it or even what issue it was in.

**Protecting Our Own**

"So does anyone know why Garth isn't here?" Robin, Dick Grayson looked around the room to non-answers from the rest of the Teen Titans. It was their regularly scheduled monthly meeting—the second Friday of the month, and everyone else was here except Garth and that wasn't like him. If he couldn't make it he always at least called in or got word somehow. He knew the rules and he was always good about them

"Maybe he's on his way; Atlantis is a haul, you know." Wally didn't even bother to look up from the magazine he was thumbing through so fast the pages were smoking. "We can give him a few more minutes, it doesn't matter."

"It matters that everyone is responsible and he knows that as well as the rest of us do. If he's going to be late, he knows to get a message through..."

"Rob, lighten up, f'God's sake, it's not like he makes a habit out of it or anything, you really don't have to go all Bat on us every time your ducks don't exactly line up, y'know." Speedy was balancing an arrow on the tip of his right index finger, and he was very good at it. He probably had way too much free time

"Seven-thirty means seven-thirty." Robin was annoyed and not just by Garth's tardiness

Speedy rolled his eyes, "Does the phrase 'anal-retentive' mean anything to you? Order some dinner and by the time it's here, he'll show up—I guarantee it." Robin gave him a look that shut him up fast, for once. Speedy always pushed, but he knew there were limits and even he didn't want to bother getting Robbie really mad unless there was a good reason—or unless he was really bored, anyway

After another twenty minutes went by with Rob barely containing his impatience, finally calling Garth's private cell number and getting voice mail. He next tried Garth's e-mail and text messaging, leaving two more reminders and questions about his whereabouts. He dialed the Atlantean embassy, thinking Garth may have checked in there since he worked with them fairly often but they hadn't heard from him in at least a week. He reached the switchboard at the Palace in Poseidonis, but was told that though the Prince was currently unavailable, the operator would be glad to take a message. No, she was sorry, His Majesty, King Orin was also unavailable. Cripes—where was Garth? "Is the prince all right, do you know?" "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't give out personal information regarding the royals. I'm sure you understand."

Sighing with annoyance, he finally called the routine meeting to order an hour late, dispatching concerns with his usual efficiency, selecting members for various assignments and concluding old business quickly. Work over, the kids relaxed; nothing was pressing and they could go about whatever they wanted to do without anything interfering with some hard earned free time. Donna and Roy had plans for a movie and Wally had a date in Central City he was anxious to get back for. Dick knew he should really patrol with Batman, but the thing with Garth being a no-show was bothering him more and more. It simply wasn't in character and he didn't want to admit that he was getting really worried since they still hadn't gotten any answers back explaining where he was.

Finally, after turning over different possible reasons why they hadn't heard from Aqualad for at least two weeks, he called JLA Headquarters. "Hello, Green Lantern? I'm sorry to bother you, but is Aquaman there?... What...?—no I didn't hear anything ...Yesterday?...Of course, yes...I see...I—yes...Thanks." He replaced the receiver, looking up when he heard a sound across the room. Wally either hadn't left yet or was back. "Garth was injured in some kind of accident last night, he'll have to stay in Atlantis for a while to recuperate." Then he added, almost under his breath, "So why weren't we told before this, like when it happened or something?"

Wally came into the room too fast to be seen, "I know—I was just talking with Uncle Barry and he told me that Garth was hurt but hadn't heard what the cause was. Did you get the whole story?"

"Lantern didn't have the details, but the initial report is that he was involved in some kind of a fight down in Atlantis; that's all I know." Something was way off about this, though. The Titans were Garth's best friends, if he was hurt they should have been among the first to be called; they shouldn't have to go searching for answers. This having to root around to get any information wasn't the way these things were handled when the JLA and the Titans were involved. Something was either very wrong or being hidden for this kind of secrecy and Robin had a pretty fair guess about who was responsible for that.

"Where did the JLA get its information?

"Uncle Barry said Clark was talking to Arthur last night sometime and it kind of came out. I guess Clark is there now, down in Atlantis I mean, and is trying to get to the bottom of it. I don't think Arthur is being too helpful."

Robin snorted, "Like that's unusual. How badly is he hurt; did Barry know anything about that?"

Wally looked like he'd rather not answer but, "I think it's pretty bad. He heard something about a lot of blood loss and emergency surgery to try to repair the damage. He said it might be career ending."

Career ending? What the hell happened? Robin shook his head. "Christ, like Garth hasn't been through enough."

"Is there any way any of us can go down there to check for ourselves?"

Naturally Rob had already thought about that. "Garth told me that since they're starting to open relations with the surface, there are some rooms in the palace they keep pumped dry and I know they have guest rooms for surface diplomats and their staffs. Arthur is tying everything up with red tape, so we'd need all kinds of special visas and stuff, but I bet if we tell them we just want to try to cheer him up the State Department may let us go since the US is really anxious to open trade and arms negotiations with them." It wouldn't be easy, but he might have enough strings he could pull to make it happen. If he was lucky and no one made a big stink about it, that is. Without knowing what really was going on, there was no real way to know what blocks would be put up and Atlantis was still pretty xenophobic when it came to dealing with the surface.

"Who hurt him, any idea? I've heard they have some serious baddies down there we don't even know about on the surface—but Garth can usually pretty much take care of himself. He's a lot tougher than people give him credit for—you've seen him handle himself; he's strong." Wally was having real trouble picturing Garth, one of his closest and oldest friends seriously hurt. Of course, he might not even be hurt. With Arthur in charge down there, Garth might just be locked in his room—or a prison cell for not eating his vegetables or something. It wasn't like Arthur was the role model for stable or anything.

Robin had some suspicions. "I don't know. I don't know enough about the politics and stuff down there to know what's normal and what isn't—I know, I know, being out of communication when he's a Titan isn't normal but maybe down there...c'mon, I don't know, Okay?" Of course this wasn't normal and of course something had to be seriously wrong to stop Garth from contacting them. Robin knew the others would expect him to find out what the truth was, especially if Garth really was hurt or sick or something and it wasn't just some kind of a story or mistake. "I've got to take off. Bruce is expecting me home tonight and there's a rumor Two-face is out again so I'll see you, okay? And if you find out anything, call me."

Wally nodded. "You got it. And vice versa, right? You hear what happened, let me know. It's not like Garth to just be a no-show, even if he's hurt. He'd have someone call for him, you know how he is."

Yes, he would and they both knew it. Garth would have someone call—if he could. Something was really not right about this, even for Atlantis, this was majorly not right.

* * *

Later that night after patrol and a quick rearrest of Harvey Dent by Batman and Robin, Dick Grayson was woken by Superman coming through his bedroom window even more quietly than Bruce could manage. If it had been anyone's room than Robin's, whoever was there would have just kept sleeping. "Clark?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, Dick, but I've just come from Atlantis and I think it might be helpful for you to go visit Garth. I can take you there now."

Dick sat up immediately. "How is he?" He spoke a little too fast. He was worried and Clark picked up on it immediately. Everyone in the JLA knew all the Titans were close friends.

"He's out of surgery and I'm told it went well. He was still in recovery when I left, but he's expected to be wake within the next hour or so."

"Surgery?" So that was true and Garth really was hurt. "How bad…?"

"I'll explain when we get there." Clark seemed uncomfortable with this. What happened to Garth?

"Please, could you just tell me?"

Clark hated giving people bad news, it was one reason he was good at it; people knew he didn't take it for granted. "Get dressed in something warm and comfortable." Dick went into his closet, coming out within a minute in jeans and a sweatshirt, carrying his socks and sneakers. "I don't know the details yet, but it seems someone ambushed him in the palace down there and stabbed him. The doctors repaired a severed artery in his arm and were working on a slashed tendon when I left. They're hoping to minimize the damage and that, with therapy, he'll be able to work with the Titans again in a few months." Clark didn't tell Dick about the major blood loss or the possibility the surgery would fail, that the doctors were almost forced to amputate.

"But how did this happen? Who did it—was anyone arrested or anything? I mean, he's a prince—a king—doesn't he have bodyguards down there? He's even complained to me about always being followed and you know he never complains about anything…" He was babbling.

Clark hesitated just long enough to scare Dick. "The initial reports are sketchy, but it looks like it may have been Arthur."

Dick stared at him in disbelief which quickly became a conviction the report was right. For some reason—or maybe for no good reason, Arthur may have actually tried to kill Garth in the Royal Palace of Poseidonis.

* * *

Half an hour later Dick was taken to Garth's 'private apartment' and was a surprised to see it was a windowless room less than eight by ten in the same corridor as the kitchen with countless servants constantly going back and forth, the noise and smells of cooking and clattering dishes and trays non-stop. It was in a wing of the palace which was kept pumped dry for surface visitors and dignitaries and seemed to be a pretty good sized section with most of the amenities you'd find in a top notch hotel.

Well, except Garth's room, which was bare, consisting of a narrow twin sized bed, a small dresser and a bookshelf with about a dozen volumes in it. There was nothing on the walls and the floor was bare. It looked like a temporary room of a non-valued low-level or visiting servant…and probably was. Garth seemed to have fallen asleep while reading, sitting up against a couple of pillows leaning against the wall. He wasn't wearing a shirt and the massive bruising was clearly visible above the heavy bandages and sling supporting his obviously badly injured arm. He was pale and looked like he'd lost weight but opened his eyes when Dick's foot scraped on the floor, unsurprised to see him standing there. He spoke before Dick could say anything, as soon as he saw the look on Dick's face.

"It was my own fault. You know how clumsy I am sometimes."

Dick just nodded, unconvinced. What? He'd tripped onto a sword or a butcher knife? Sure he did. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. I feel a little better and it doesn't hurt. Really it doesn't…" He trailed off, probably knowing Dick didn't believe him anyway. "I'm fine. Really, I am." He didn't quite meet Dick's eyes. "Thank you for coming, it was…thoughtful of you."

Dick sat down carefully on the edge of the bed since there was no chair or stool and spoke quietly. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Garth avoided his look again and shrugged with his good shoulder. "It was just an accident." He went on before Dick could protest or ask again. "Please, it's nothing, Robbie, just let it go. Please. There's nothing to be gained by…"

"Look, Garth…" He stopped. How the hell was he supposed to phrase this? "We're—I'm worried about you."

"There's no need. Really, it was nothing and I'm healing; in fact the doctor said I could start getting out soon, start moving again. He even said he encouraged it because it would help me heal faster."

"Tell me what happened, Garth. You have to know what the rumors are; if you tell me they're not true I'll believe you." Please tell me Arthur didn't try to kill you. Please tell me I'm wrong, Garth.

Garth finally looked at Dick and his expression told him everything. Garth was scared, afraid to talk, afraid to say anything out loud. The room was probably bugged. Dick whispered barely loud enough to be heard from a foot away, "Is it what I think?"

Furtively Garth looked around the small room, glanced at the door to make sure no one was watching and nodded once, just enough to be clear in his answer.

Christ. "Why?"

A helpless shrug as Garth gestured with his good hand, he had no idea and even if he did he couldn't talk about it.

Just then the door opened and a man walked in without knocking but Dick didn't know enough about the etiquette down here to know if that was the norm or not. Garth didn't seem surprised, anyway. The man brusquely said something to Garth in Atlantean to which Garth just nodded. The man stared at Dick as though assessing him and left as abruptly as he entered. "Who was that?"

"A doctor. He said I shouldn't extend myself with visitors."

That was a doctor? He seemed a lot more like a guard than anything else, a guard or a jailor of some kind. "Should I leave? Do you want to rest?" Suddenly Dick was guilty, afraid he'd hurt Garth, tired him out or something but equally afraid to leave him alone.

"No. Stay. Please stay. No one talks to me down here." He gave Dick a small smile that told him just how miserable Garth was. He was an outsider here, a stranger and unwelcome in what should have been his home and without Tula to soften the place and ease his way he was abandoned and adrift. And now someone—Arthur?—tried to kill him, or at least send him a message of some kind.

"Are you hungry?" Garth _had_ lost weight, now that he got a good look at him. If he was injured in the last day or two, why was he so thin?

"I'm all right. I don't like to bother the kitchen staff; they're always busy."

He didn't like to ask the cooks next door for food? Christ. "Well, I could use some breakfast, do you think that would be okay?"

"Oh—I'm sorry, of course, you're a guest, whatever you want. Jahn?" He called towards the door, a moment later a middle aged man stuck his head in. "Food for my guest, please."

"Eat with me—I hate eating alone." Dick wasn't hungry, but hell. Garth looked like he really needed a meal. The awkward silence lasted a beat too long before Garth nodded at whoever the servant was, agreeing to dine with his guest. The servant seemed startled to hear Garth ask for food for himself, but didn't say anything and gave a slight nod as he left.

"So…" Dick didn't know what to say.

"How did you get down here?" Garth was trying.

"Clark gave me a lift. When we heard you were hurt, we wanted to make sure you were going to be okay so he came by and picked me up. Literally." He smiled; it was an old joke as far as Superman was concerned. "You haven't been around the Tower in a while, what have you been doing? 'You keeping busy?"

Garth nodded, knowing Dick was trying to make conversation to avoid talking about what he really wanted to know, he knew the room was bugged and was wondering why. He'd also seen the look on Dick's face when he walked in and between the crummy room and the fact he'd been attacked here in the palace, you could have counted the questions he had using both hands and all your toes as well. Unfortunately, they couldn't talk about it here. It was…difficult. "I've been spending the last few months getting used to dealing with the governing of Shayeris; between handling things there and having to negotiate with the other cities, it gets complicated." He paused; there was so much he simply couldn't talk about. "Did I tell you I met my mother?"

Garth met the woman who allowed him to be abandoned and left to certain death within hours of his birth? No, Dick hadn't heard that little item. "And?"

"She came up to me in the palace in Shayeris about a month ago, introduced herself—it was odd, I had no idea what she wanted or what to say to her and I got the impression she was hurt by that, but it's still beyond me what she though would happen." He gave a one-shouldered shrug again. "It's a little late for me to need a mother now." Plus the entire court had been watching to make it even more awkward.

The servant appeared again without knocking and carrying a covered tray. He set it on the bureau top and left, all without any comment or simply courtesy—at least from Dick's surfacer perspective. Garth looked over at the tray, "Let's see what we have."

Dick got up, removed the cover to reveal two plates, both loaded with what looked to be some kind of broiled fish and vegetables. It smelled pretty good, in fact. He handed Garth the plate that looked like it had the most food on it and poured them each a drink from a pitcher.

"Garth?" Dick's voice was hesitant.

"Hmm?" Garth really was hungry. He was eating too fast to take the time to even taste what he was swallowing.

"You're a King down here, right?"

"Uh-huh." He was famished.

"So, how come…I mean, um, why…?" He had no idea how to say this. Luckily Garth already knew.

"Because this is Arthur's palace, not mine."

"So why aren't you in your own palace, then, especially if you're hurt?"

"Arthur requested a meeting to discuss trade between our two cities and then when I got here I was attacked." Simple, matter of fact.

Garth walked, or swam, into a trap. Of course. "Oh."

"He didn't mean to…" He trailed off because there was no point in going down that train of thought. Of course Arthur meant to hurt him, maybe even kill him and if the guards hadn't been close by he probably would have succeeded. It would have been blamed on some extremist or a coup like the one against Garth's father or something, but he'd still be dead. The only question was why. Why had Arthur wanted him dead and why had he taken the chance of attacking him where he could have been—hell he _was_—seen? Jealousy? A power grab? A way to force Shayeris to form an alliance or to accept Arthur's rule, maybe a way to force Shayeris into an annexation with Poseidonis or as a way to gain control of their natural resources, which were greater than the ones in Arthur's own city? Or, Garth considered, maybe Arthur simply hated him. That was always possible. Maybe Arthur has just flipped out and gone nuts for a few minutes. It wasn't like it was the first time it had ever happened. He looked over at Rob, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful so as not to jar him or cause him any pain or discomfort. No one else would have the consideration for him to think of that. He was a king, but people seemed to assume that meant Garth had power and hot and cold running servants and that simply wasn't true. Part of the reason was that he flat out didn't like people hovering over him all the time, part of it was that he liked to do for himself most of the time and most of it was that he didn't trust the men and women who surrounded him. They'd killed his father and there was no reason to assume they wouldn't try to kill him as well, in fact he assumed that at some point they would. "I'll be all right. The doctor said I can go back to Shayeris in a couple of days and then I'll be able to…"

"Garth, uh, look…are you going to be, I mean…" Robin didn't know how to say this so…" We're worried about you. Maybe you should come and stay at the Tower where we can make sure that…"

"That no one else will try to kill me?" Of course. He knew that was why Rob and Clark were here; he'd heard the servants out in the hall talking and he knew Clark was talking with Arthur behind closed doors right now, probably telling him the JLA was watching and he'd better keep a lid on things or there'd be hell to pay. Okay, Clark wouldn't put it like that, but that's what it would mean. "I'll be fine; as soon as I get back to my own palace I'll be protected, there's no need for you to worry about me, Dick. Honestly, there isn't."

"He tried to kill you." It was out of his mouth before he thought.

"No, he didn't. If he really wanted to kill me I'd be dead now. He just wanted to, I don't know; he wanted to let me know where I stand. That's why I'm in this crummy room and being treated like this. C'mon, Rob, you must have figured that out. This is—in addition to whatever else it may be—this is a power move on Arthur's part to let me and my city know where we stand in the grand scheme." The look of horror on Robin's face stopped him. But it's all right, I have guards here and I'm fine now. I am."

"What protection do you have here? I didn't see any guards at the door." Rob knew he was pushing, but Garth seemed too complacent about this, too nonchalant for some reason. It was almost as if he didn't care or was resigned to whatever was going to happen. His answer was just a shrug.

"I'm leaving here tomorrow. Well, probably, anyway. I'll be okay. Besides, there are too many people around for him to try anything more after what happened. Plus the JLA knows, so if he does…" Another shrug. It was almost as if he didn't even care.

"I'll stay, then. And Clark is around. We can help escort you back to your own city, make sure you get back safe."

Garth gave him a long-suffering look. "That really isn't necessary. I'm fine, Rob. Even Arthur wouldn't dare murder a sitting king after suspicion has been laid on him."

"Why are you defending him, for God's sake?"

"I'm not, I'm just realistic. He can't do anything more to me here and I'll be left alone now." He saw the look of disbelief on Dick's face. "And this room, it's just because it's…it doesn't matter. I know it's an insult both to me personally and to my government, but he doesn't know what we have planned and when he finds out he'll…" Garth stopped abruptly, having said too much. "It doesn't matter, that's all. It's just a room and it's just for a few days."

"Please come back to the Tower with me." He went on as Garth looked like he was about to interrupt. "Or at least let Clark escort you back to your own palace where you really will be safe. Well, safer, anyway. Please, Garth."

"No."

"Garth, it's for your safety."

"I'm a king. I can't run away and I certainly can't run anywhere other than to my own kingdom."

"If we arrange for you to get back to your own palace, will you agree to go?"

Garth looked at him, about to answer when a servant entered without knocking to gather the dirty plates. Dick was about to say he wasn't finished but didn't think it would make any difference and so kept quiet until the man left.

"Do you have—I mean you must have some friends around from when you lived here."

Garth had settled back against the piled pillows, looking more tired than it was possible to look. It was obvious he was in pain and the injury was draining him physically, mentally and emotionally. "Tula is dead."

"Yes, but there must be others."

Silence.

"Garth, let us…"

"Rob, stop. Please. I understand why you and Clark are here I understand your concerns and I appreciate that concern. I really do, but there isn't anything you can do so please just stop asking."

"Of course there is and we're not going to step aside so Arthur can kill you in some political coup or power play or whatever is going on. For God's sake, you're not even getting enough food here. Let us help you, Garth. Please."

Garth closed his eyes for a moment; he was exhausted. After glancing to make sure there was no one visible at the door. "Help me up, I want to walk." They moved opt to the corridor then down to a storeroom about fifty feet further down the hallway. Making sure they weren't being watched, Garth closed the door behind them. "It's not political." He was whispering so softly Robin could barely hear him even standing mere inches away. "Arthur is insane. He's lost his mind and believes I'm a threat to his throne and power. I'm not—I don't even want my own throne, let alone anyone else's but he won't accept that. He wants me dead."

"Then let us get you out of here. Please Garth, let us help you."

He looked so tired, as if thinking was painful, but he nodded.

"The Tower or Shayeris?" Garth shrugged; no matter. "Stay here, I'll get Clark."

* * *

"We have to get him someplace safe and soon."

"I suspected as much. Arthur is going on about how Garth's father was insane and it's just a matter of time before Garth is mad as well. He's insisting Garth has to be stopped for the good of the nation."

"You do know his father was fine, don't you? He wasn't nuts like everyone was saying; it was just a political thing, a coup and that's the real reason his father was killed." They were speaking in English, a language not commonly understood underwater. They were in a private alcove and Clark had made sure there were no microphones within a hundred yards. "What will happen with Orin? Do his people know he's flipped out?"

"It's being kept secret for now to make sure the government remains stable, but he's been effectively stripped of power and there isn't much he can do now."

Robin wasn't buying it. "You're not suggesting we leave Garth here, are you?"

"Of course not. We'll take him back with us and when he's healed he can decide what he wants to do—stay on the surface or return to his own city. I know he's going to be offered the Poseidonis throne as well; with Arthur unable to function they need someone and Garth is the obvious choice."

"He'll never agree to that." Garth hated being king, hated the pressure, the threats and the loss of freedom. "Besides, he isn't respected here. You've seen how he's being treated, haven't you? I'm impressed he even survived their treatment and if he was made king—I don't know who'd listen to him."

"I know, but he may have no choice." Clark had been speaking with Vulko, the main advisor and chief counselor, the information of the royal offer came straight from him; the council had been meeting all night and this was the solution they'd come up with. They could only hope Garth would agree, if only temporarily, to ensure a smooth transition until a permanent regent could be appointed. First he had to recover and he'd do that best surrounded by friends.

"Isn't his mother still in Shayeris?" Robin turned his head towards Superman as they walked slowly back to where he'd left Garth. "I know he's not close to her—okay, he hates her, but she's still a queen as far as I know and maybe she could do something. The people there know her and if she…"

"That's already been suggested and Garth refused flat-out to have anything to do with her." They paused outside the small storeroom Garth was waiting in. "The decision is that Vulko will act as regent here until Garth is well enough to take over and he'll leave his own regents in place in Shayeris for now—they've been running the place for years, it shouldn't be a problem; he had only just begun to have any hands on contact with them so the feeling is that a few more months won't make any difference."

Robin paused, not wanting to go in until he had some more answers. "You want to explain to me how we're going to convince Garth of all this? I'm betting that if we get him up to the surface he'll want to stay there."

"Why?"

"What does he have holding him here? Arthur tried to kill him, he has a throne—two thrones he doesn't want, he has no family connections and Tula is dead. What's here for him?"

Superman sighed. "You may be right, but first things first. Let's get him well and then he'll be in a better position to make a decision." They knocked lightly and went in, Garth was sitting quietly, looking out a window at the city but turned as they entered. "Will you come back with us so you can get better?"

Garth nodded, accepting. "I never want to come back here. I don't. Vulko or someone can reign until Arthur is better or they find someone else and Shayeris can fend for itself like it's been doing since they murdered my father."

"…Garth…"

"Let's go."

7/11/06

15


End file.
